"But shall I not be a burden to him?"
"No, indeed."
They rode over the bridge, and an ivy-covered villa came to view through the foliage. Proceeding up the gravel path to the veranda, they alighted and gave their horses to the stable-boy. Through the long windows that opened on the veranda could be seen a lamp and people gathered about it. A young woman sat with a sleeping child in her lap; an older lady, with a face of marble pallor, sat before an open Bible; and a young man held a little boy on his knee and drew pictures for him on a slate. A big Newfoundland dog suddenly rose from the corner where he was sleeping, and, with a half-suppressed bark of eager expectation, came bounding to the door.
"Where am I?" stammered odon in great agitation.
"At home."
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER.
odon could not persuade himself that Boksa had done him a kindness in bringing him home. It was a time of torturing suspense for all the family. The Austrian general had been duly informed where odon Baradlay could be found, and a summons from him was daily expected.
Poor Aranka could not hear a door open, or the sound of a strange step, without starting and turning pale. Every day, when the mail came, they all ran to look over the letters and make sure that the dreaded call to odon was not among them.
One day a suspicious-looking letter came to view addressed in German to "Herr Eugen von Baradlay."
_Eugen_--why, that was German for _Jeno_. He opened the letter, read it, and put it in his pocket. All the family were present, and his mother asked him from whom his letter came, and what news it brought.
But Jeno only answered, "I must go on a journey."
"Whither and for what purpose?" asked the baroness.
"I can"t sit idle here any longer," he replied. "One of my brothers has vanished from our sight, and the other daily expects to be taken prisoner. Such a life is more than I can bear any longer. It is my turn now to try what I can do."
"But what can you do?" asked his mother.
"That is my secret."
"But I have a right to share it. No member of my family shall adopt a course which affects us all, which I have not first approved."
"You will learn all in due time."
"But what if I then refuse to give my sanction?"
"Your refusal will be too late to be of any avail."
"Then I forbid you to go on."
"I cannot obey you. I am no longer a child, but am responsible to myself alone for my actions."
"But," interposed odon, "you are still a son and a brother."
"As you shall soon see," answered Jeno, with significant emphasis.
The baroness took her youngest son by the hand. "You have some plan for saving our family," said she. "I can read your soul; you are an open book to me. I have studied you from your infancy. You think now to rescue us by leaving us and resuming your old connections, thus exerting an influence in our favour upon our enemies. I see that you are planning to return to the Plankenhorsts."
Jeno smiled sadly. "Do you read that in my heart?" he asked.
"You wish to marry that girl in order to save your brother through the powerful influence of her family,--that girl whose dower will be my hatred, and on whom her country"s curse and G.o.d"s anger rest."
Aranka threw herself on her mother-in-law"s breast. "Mother," she cried, "do not speak of her like that; he loves her!"
odon led his wife back to her seat. "Do not interpose, my dear," said he, firmly. "We are here concerned with matters of which your innocent soul can have not the slightest conception. To purchase life and property by swearing fidelity to the woman who was the inspiring demon of all the woe that so lately befell our poor country; who has nursed the hatred of one people against another; who has played the part of traitress, spy, slanderer; who has stirred up men against the throne only for the purpose of delivering them over to the hangman; who harbours such fiendish plots in her bosom that, if she had her way, she would embitter for ever one country against its neighbour,--to bring such a woman as wife into his father"s house is what no Baradlay shall do, or if he should do it I know one who would refuse the gift of his life at such a price."
The baroness sank weeping on her eldest son"s bosom. He had voiced the cry of her own proud soul. Jeno said nothing; he smiled sadly, and went about his preparations for departure. Aranka regarded him with compa.s.sion in her eyes.
"And do you, too, condemn me?" he asked softly.
"Do what your heart bids you," she sighed.
"Yes, with Heaven"s help I will!"
His mother would not let him leave the room; she threw herself on her knees before him and blocked the way. "My son," she cried, "I beg you not to go. Let misery, torture, death itself overtake us; we will bear them all without complaint. Have not ten thousand already died for the cause? But our souls we will keep unsullied. Oh, do not close against us the way to heaven!"
"Mother, I implore you, rise."
"No; if you go, my place is here in the dust,--crushed to the earth."
"You do not understand me, mother; nor is it my will that you should."
"What!" cried the mother, joyfully; "you are not planning to do as I suspected?"
"That question I must refuse to answer."
"One word more," interrupted odon; "if you would relieve our anxiety, show us the letter you have received."
Jeno put his hand to his breast, as if fearful lest some one might try to take the letter from him by force. "That letter you shall not see,"
he declared.
"I am determined to read it," returned the other.
At this Jeno"s face flushed hotly. "odon Baradlay," he exclaimed, "the letter is addressed to Eugen Baradlay. I am Eugen Baradlay." So saying, he turned proudly away.
"Then our mother was right, after all," said his brother bitterly.
The baroness rose to her feet. Tears coursed down her cheeks. "Go, then," she cried, "whither your obstinate will leads you. Leave us here in despair and in tears. But know that, though two of my sons are likely to die on the scaffold, I shall not mourn those that are taken, but the one that is left."
At these hard words Jeno looked with a gentle smile at the speaker.
"Mother," said he, "remember that my last words to you were, "I love you." Farewell!" And he was gone.
The contents of his letter were as follows:
"HERR COMMISSARY-GENERAL EUGEN VON BARADLAY:--You are hereby summoned before the military tribunal in Pest."